And then he
by anchovies
Summary: His warm breath carressed my cheek like a soft summer breeze, his mouth lingering there for but a moment, then moving down my neck where his lips gently brushed against my skin.' Twincest. Yaoi. Don't like, don't bother reading. For my own twin, Pasty.
1. Chapter 1

**Fishi-**Hey everybody!! Um, this is my first HP fanfic, so go easy on the reviews if there's something terribly wrong. This is also dedicated to my twin, pasty. For your birthday!!! Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it: ):D Not much else to sa...so I hope you all like it: ):D:P

_**EDITED VERSION:**_ Yay!! I fixed all the strange little sybols!! Now everyone can read it normaly!! 3

**_Warning:_** This contains twincest. That means twins having more than a sibling relationship with one another. If you don't like, don't read. I dont like heterosexuals dissing my stories because they think gay guys and lesbians are 'wrong' and they 'aren't allowed to do that'. Loving someone, even if they are of the same sex-even the same bloodline-, is still loving someone. So just deal.

_Disclaimer_: I do not own any characters of JK Rowling's. I just want to...borrow them for a while...:

/Thanks/ - thoughts

"Thanks" - speech

Fred

His warm breath caressed my cheek like a soft summer breeze, his mouth lingering there for but a moment, then moving down my neck where his lips gently brushed against my skin. A shiver ran up my spine, making my whole body tremble under his identical one.

"Ge-George," I whispered in his ear, "We...we shouldn't be doing this." I tried to make my voice sound like it was begging for him to stop, but, truthfully, I was yearning for him to go on.

"Why?" he simply questioned, his mouth continuing its exploration of every square centimeter of my neck.

"B-because!" I attempted to push him off me, but he only gripped me tighter. I gave up; but not in...yet.

"It's not right! We're brothers! Twins! Blood! It's just..." I could't bring myself to finish the sentence.

Finally, he pulled back, his green-blue eyes locking with mine. "It's just society wouldn't accept us, right? They'd just treat us like disgusting mobs of flesh, not even worth living, right?" Damn. He'd read my mind again. His rantings suddenly broke off, his eyes getting a far off look.

"George?" I whispered.

"You want jam, or peanut-butter?" he asked in a voice not his own.

"What?" I was totally confused.

"Can you not understand English? Sprekenzie English? Hello! Fred! Wake up!" A strong shove sent me flying off the bed. Bed?

"Ah!" I wrestled with the sheets, trying to fend off the attacking white ghosts.

Something grabbed my wrist, wrenching my body off the floor.

"What is _wrong_ with you this morning?" Percy's voice was loud in my ears, bouncing around the empty space inbetween them. "I asked you if you wanted jam or peanut butter! You were supposed to be up an hour ago! Let's move! He sniffed, straightened up, and tried to compose himself. "Now, which is it?"

"Peanut butter and jam." replied my voice, except it did not emanate from me. Percy and I both looked towards the doorway where a sopping wet red head stood, dripping on the floor, with a towel around his waist, who had just read my mind for the second time that morning.

George.

"Well," said Percy, a little distraught that George had answered and stopped his torturing me. "Fine. And you?" he motioned towards my twin.

"Same thing. Duh."

Percy huffed, looking as if he was about to say more, but then thought better of it -seeing as it was two on one- and walked away, calling out the orders to mum in the kitchen. He would have to get back-up if he wanted to face George and me.

George and me; the thought swirled around in my head.

George and me.

George and...me.

George...and me.

George...and...me...

Which sent my brain swirling back to the dream, the one in which George had been...well, let's just say he was felling a little more than brotherly love between us. And I felt the same thing...if only it could actually happen.

Sighing, I boarded my mind on a different train of thought.

George had always been there for me. Always. And I for him. We were the Weasley twins; a package. If you got one, you got the other. We were never apart for more then mere seconds. Well, except this once.

We were 7; George had been invited to someone's birthday party...and I hadn't. At first, I was fine with it, I mean, I hardly even liked the kid. It was simple: George would go to the sleepover/birthday party-I wouldn't. So mum and I dropped him off at the birthday boys house, but when I went to wave goodbye, a deep panic filled me. I guess George saw it(or maybe sensed is a better word?) and he asked if he should stay. I swallowed the tears, and choked out that he should go, or else he'd be late for the party. He'd smiled, promising to bring back a piece of cake for me. Then, giving my hand a quick squeeze, turned his back, walking up to the neat little house with his gift. Mum and I went home, and I did my best to survive the night without my twin there beside me. I kept finding myself whispering quick comments to the air beside me, expecting to have an ear listening to them, but found none.

I thought I'd find some solace in the sheets of the bed we shared, but when I finally climbed under the comforter, I just felt even lonelier(obviously the blanket wasn't doing its job; it was supposed to be a _comforter_ after all). At last, I gave into my tears, weeping into the pillow.

A while later, mum came in to make sure I was asleep, and, upon finding me there crying my eyes out, immediately called for George. He came home via floo-powder, and as soon as he stepped through the threshold of the fireplace carrying a plate of cake(he hadn't forgotten his promise), I was in his arms, burying my face in his chest, crying for all I was worth. When he had finally managed to get me up to our room and in bed, my sobs had subsided, but my grip on him had not let up.

"Hey, it's okay," his gentle voice whispered, "I'm back. I'm alive!" he attempted a joke, but for once I didn't laugh.

"I-It...it felt like you abandoned me!" a fresh flood of tears reduced me to a trembling mass of snotty, tear-stained goo, gripping my brothers neck like a lifeline.

Then, to my utter surprise and comfort, he'd kissed me. Just a small peck on the forehead, a comforting gesture, but a kiss nonetheless. I had been too young to really understand what a kiss meant, and everything George did, I did. So, naturally, I kissed him back, this time on the cheek.

Ah, such nice memories...

An abrupt shaking woke me from my reverie, and I snapped out of it to find George's hand on my shoulder.

"Hey. Hey! Freddy, common, wake up!"

I grunted, but lifted my hands to the ones he offered, and he pulled me up.

"Let's go! Don't wanna' be late, do ya'? What are you thinking about so hard that you can't at least take a shower you smelly hobo?" he said while throwing the towel from around his waist to me.

Little did he know I was thinking about, well, him.

He turned away, allowing me a short stare at his completely naked form. When mum said 'identical down to the last freckle', she was wrong, because I didn't see glitering smooth skin; strong, firm muscles; and electrifyingly blue eyes when I looked in the mirror. No, all I saw was a tall, lanky boy with a mop of red hair falling into his eyes. But when I looked at him...a strong, blue eyed man with red, flaming hair crowning his head-that's what I saw.

/No!! Fred! Shut-up, Shut-up, Shut-UP!! He's your brother! No, worse: he's your twin./ sighing in defeat, I quickly turned away, my face turning red from anger, embarrassment, and crushed hopes.

Before I could exit through the door though, George caught my arm.

"Fred? You okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned, which made me feel all the more guilty that my flushed face was over nothing.

"I'm fine." I replied, attempting a smile. "I'm just...tired."

Technically, I was being truthful. I _was_ tired. Tired of hiding my love from George. Tired of pretending to laugh when all I wanted to do was hold him close. Tired of hoping -no, wishing- that my own twin returned my feelings. Tired of sleeping beside him every night and not being able to run my fingers over his well muscled chest, touch him, kiss him.

Yeah. I was tired.

But I brushed all those thought away.

No. George was a boy. George was my brother. George was my _twin_.

So I turned my back on him, walking towards the bathroom. I took a shower. Alone. We _usually_ had our showers together, but lately...well, lately wasn't 'usually'.

When I came back to the room a few minutes later, George had no shirt on and his trousers undone. Man did he ever look hot.

"Green or blue?" he asked.

I quickly turned my attention away from his steamy body to the shirts in his hands. One was striped green, the other plain blue.

"Green." I decided.

He pulled the striped shirt over his head and threw me an identical one. Then he sat on the bed and waited.

I went to the closet and pulled out a pair of pants, not even bothering to glance over at my blood brother to confirm they were the same; I knew they were.

Dropping the towel, I felt his eyes on my back. Hurriedly, I pulled on some boxers and the pants, then threw the shirt on.

While pulling on some socks, I sensed his body come closer, then a gentle brush against the back of my neck sent shivers down my spine.

"You're advertising."[1 he whispered, tucking my tag in.

"T-thanks." I replied in an equally hushed tone, for a reason unknown. I glanced back at him and found him just staring at me, his fingers still gently pressed against my neck.

I stared back. Into those deep, blue eyes. Deeper then the sea. I lost myself in those eyes, but I didn't drown. No, I just floated away in the crystalline waters...

"Freeeed!! Geeeeeorge!!! Get down here this instant!!" my mothers high, screechy voice squawked at us from downstairs.

I didn't want to, but I broke eye contact, finding myself back in our room instead of swimming through that deep, blue sea.

"Coming!" George yelled, finally turning away, towards the door. "Are you?" he asked me.

I jumped up, quickly walking to his side. When I glanced down to put my hand on the door knob, I spied Georges crotch, his pants still undone. Without even thinking, I reached down and took the zipper in my fingers, gripping the bottom of the fly with my other hand. I pulled up, zipping it closed, then went for the button. I froze, finally realizing that these weren't my own trousers. I slowly looked up, terrified of what I would see on his face.

"S-sorry," I mumbled, pulling my hands away, "Your fly was undone." I was blushing profusely.

"S'okay." he said, brushing it off like crumbs from his shirt. "Let's go." Then he did something he hadn't done in a long time: he held my hand.

Leading me down the stairs (with our hands still clasped tightly together), he took us to the kitchen, dropping by the counter for our PB and J sandwiches.

"Well finally! I thought you two were dead by how long you took getting' down here! Now eat up. You'll need all your strength today."

"Huh? Why?" we both asked at the same time.

She huffed, putting her hand on a thrust out hip."Becaaause," she dragged out the word. "You said you would de-gnome the garden for me this afternoon."

"Aw mum!" we whined, once again at the same time, identical looks of disdain and discomfort on our faces.

"You promised." she snipped. "Now, go on out there and get em'!" shooing us away with her apron, our mother went back to cleaning out the kitchen.

I sighed, looking up at George.

"D'you think we could get-"

"And don't even think about tricking one of your brothers into doing it! Especially not Ron!" our mum yelled as we trudged down the hall.

"Damn." he whispered under his breath. "Oh well, we would have had to do it sometime anyway, right? So why not get it over with?"

Once again he grabbed my hand, and along with it my heart, making it jump up into my throat.

"Let's go."

zZz

A few hours later, George and I had only managed to get about 9 gnomes, and we weren't happy. On our hands and knees we had scrambled around for most of that time, and I was definitely sore.

George crawled over to the wall, leaning against it for support, and said to me, "Fred, I think we deserve a bit of a break, don't you?"

I simply nodded, crawling over to the wall myself and putting my back to it, allowing the frame to hold my weight.

We sat in silence for a few moments. Alone. Together. Then, of course, George broke it.

"Do you think we'll ever get girlfriends?"

It totally took me by surprise and I fumbled for an answer.

"Oh, um, ah...well, I'm sure someday we'll find some girls that will like us for who we are and, well, you know, we'll like them back and stuff, and, um..." I couldn't think of anything else to say. Moreover, I didn't want to say anything else or I knew I would lose control and blurt out something like 'Why would you want a girlfriend when you have me?!!?'

"But not anytime soon, right?"

I snorted, smiling at his unmeant joke. "Well, probably not..."

"Good," he turned to face me, my mirror image, my twin, "Then I won't regret doing this."

And he leaned forward and-

zZz

**Fishi-** Hehehe!! I feel so E-vil!! Leaving you with a cliffhanger like that...: Though it's probably quite obvious what he's about to do next...oh well, I can still torture you guys with not letting you see the next chappie for a while...Bwaha!! So, to speed up the process of me updating: Review!!!!! I live off of them!! Pls, I like feed back, and comments: ):D:P XD So just do yourself a favor and review: ):D Thnx!!

1- 'advertising' is a word my friend and I use for saying your tag is sticking out. It's quite genius really.


	2. Chapter 2

**Fishi-** Hiya!! I'll keep this short: I hope you enjoy!! (and this is still for my twin!!: )) And thank you to all the wonderful reviewers!!! You guys kept me going: ) :D 

**Warning:** Contains twincest and a hint of RonDraco. : ) Don't like, then don't read. Simple.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the words on this page. Thank you.

/Thanks/- thought

"Thanks"- speech

**BTW: This has switched POV from Fred to George.**

**George**

-and kissed him. I had just kissed my brother. My twin. My other half.

Sudden flashbacks filled my mind with images. Images of Fred and me. We were playing outside in the dirt, splashing mud and such over ourselves and each other. We learned how to jump rope together. The first time Fred and I had watched a sunrise. I stayed with that one for a while, reminiscing at how the sun had glinted off his face and hair, making his eyes -identical yet so completely different to my own- catch a specific light. I remembered sneaking out our bedroom window countless times after just so I could see his face in the morning sun. I sighed.

Then the image of his furious face filled my minds eye. I tried to push away the memory that went along with it, but I couldn't. So instead I was forced to relive the account, my brain acting us out like little dolls in a puppet theater.

"I hate you George!" he'd yelled. "I never want to see you again!" slamming the door in my face, 12 year old Fred stomped over to the bed. Our bed.

I slammed my fist against the door. "Oh yeah?!!? Well I-I ha..." but I couldn't bring myself to say the words. 'I hate you'. It was just impossible to say to my twin. I couldn't actually mean them.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I slumped against the door frame.

That was the first (and so far only) fight we had gotten into; it was painful when I was reminded of that day. Hour actually. Fred had only lasted an hour in the room alone, but he'd lasted longer than me. Of course, that wasn't saying much since I could only stand seven and a half minutes away from him (I'd counted). After that dreadfully long 7.5 minutes, I knocked on the door, asking him if I could come in.

"No!" he'd shouted, "I don't want you anywhere near me ever again!"

That had hurt. A lot.

"I'm sorry." I whispered into the door, a crystal tear sliding down my cheek.

Then I sat there. Just sitting, thinking. Wondering if he actually meant what he had said. Did he really hate me? Would he never talk to me again? I couldn't even fathom the idea, let alone accept it. I thought about the future without him, trying to picture me without him. I couldn't. Would he really abandon me? Maybe. Would I ever abandon him? Never.

I don't know how long I sat there, imagining the door opening and a forgiving Fred standing there. So I thought I might be hallucinating when the door did open, interrupting my thoughts by erasing the support of the door behind me. Even with how disoriented I was, I had managed to wrap my arms around Fred, returning the hug he had given me. The reason, I think, that he had opened the door.

"I'm sorry." I whispered again.

"No," he whispered back, "I'm sorry. I just...overreacted."

Smiling, I pulled him back into my arms, holding him for a while longer.

That was the one and only time Fred and I had been apart for more than mere seconds. Well, the second actually. The first time was at a birthday party I had been invited to...and Fred hadn't.

I felt horrible leaving him there by himself, standing there alone on the sidewalk as I trotted up to the little boys house with my gift. I can't even remember the kids name. But I hadn't had any fun at the party. The best part of that night was when I went home early, and Fred ran into my arms. He'd almost smushed the piece of cake I'd brought home for him.

Managing to drag him upstairs, I put us both in the bed we shared, snuggling in for the night together, as usual.

"I-It, it...it felt like you abandoned me!" he'd cried.

I pulled him even closer in, then comforted him the only way I knew how: I'd kissed him. Just a small peck on the head, a comforting motion, but a kiss non-the-less. Then, after a moment of wondering if I'd done the wrong thing, he'd kissed me back. Just a peck on the cheek, but my ears burned for a long while afterward. I'd swore the blush was permanent, but, eventually, it went away. Though the feeling I'd had the moment he'd kissed me hadn't, and a few years later I realized my feelings towards my brother. Now, in between our fifth and sixth year, I was dying to kiss him again, hold him in my arms and have him kiss me back. I wanted to feel his body under mine, moving and responding to things I did...

Man, I really had to stop thinking in fairytales. Fairytales where everyone turns out happy, everyone's straight, and the villain turns to the 'good' side in the end. Yeah, had to stop doing that. After all, there wasn't such a thing as a happy ending for Fred and me. Well, at least not one where I'd be happy. He would probably find a nice girl, get married, get a real job instead of the joke shop we'd been talking about since we were little, and live happily, ever, after. He'd be the one 'on top', and he would like it that way. It would be a girl he would marry, not an identical twin. He would get a job at the ministry, an important one that support his family (wife, dog, and 2.4 children)[1. Then he'd retire early, go on a second honeymoon, and die peacefully in his sleep at an old age. Yep. And I would be stuck the lonely old uncle, taking care of the kids with none of my own. I would call him every day, ask him how he was doing. Be an annoyance. Well, that sounded a lot like me already (the annoying part anyway).

But here I was, probably ruining his chance at a happy life with what would be a horrible, disgusting, puke-inducing memory in the future.

I really hadn't thought about what would happen if I ever kissed him. I never wondered if he'd pull away, slap me, abandon me as a brother. That was all I was thinking about now, however.

The only thing was, there wasn't much to think about because he didn't do anything I could base a hypothesis off of. I mean, there was the initial small gasp of surprise as our lips first met, but besides that, nothing.

So I pulled back.

"S-sorry." I mumbled. "S-sort of l-lost control." Oh _smooth_ one George, very smooth, now you just sound like that weak, stuttering Professor Quirrel. Great.

I searched his face for some reaction; disgust, revulsion, hatred; but found none.

Nothing at all.

So he felt nothing when I kissed him. Just an emotionless, black chasm. Nothing.

Tears filled my eyes, blurring my vision of his completely blank, but still beautiful, face. Self-loathing filled my being, freezing my heart to its core.

Still nothing.

In an instant I was up and running, sprinting into the house and up the stairs at top speed.

"Oh, finished already dear?" my mother asked politely as I flew past. I didn't even favor her with a glance.

Instead I focused on one thing: how to end it quickly. A bullet through the head would probably be the least painful way. But did I want it to be painless? Or maybe it should be slow, full of agony, heart wrenching like the kiss must have been for Fred.

I decided with the latter, seeing as we didn't have gun anyway and I couldn't think of anything else, just as I crashed into our room. Locking the door, I ripped through all my belongings, searching...looking for the one thing-

Found it! Triumphantly I held up the object of my choosing: a pendant, one from a necklace I had gotten for our birthday last year. I stared at it. It was a silver wand, about an inch long, with a pointed tip. Slowly, I placed it on the skin of my wrist, feeling the cool metal of the lethal weapon against my skin.

"George?" a voice identical to my own whispered through the crack under the door.

Fred.

What would he think when he saw me lying here, blood oozing out of my body, creating a pool of viscous, red liquid on the floor? I tried to picture him glad, happy that the complication of his life was finally gone.

But I couldn't.

No matter how many times I worked it over in my head, all I could see him doing was crying, hot tears of anger and sadness overwhelming those beautiful blue eyes, spilling out over his cheeks. And then his shaking hand gripping the silver wand pendent, slicing it into his own soft ski...his identical body laying beside mine, the same blood intermingling...I didn't want that to happen, not to him.

"George?" he whispered again, this time a little more fright and concern in his voice.

At a painstakingly slow pace, I walked over to the door, gently unlocked it, and eased it open.

Tears were running down his cheeks, his eyes had puffed up, and his bottom lip was trembling.

"Fred, I-" but I was unable to finish, unable to complete the thought even, because he just pushed me into the room, slammed the door behind us, and collapsed on top of me, kissing my lips so hard they turned numb.

We kissed for what seemed like forever, and only but a moment; time stood still and raced ahead at the same time; I couldn't remember if it lasted for hours or only seconds, but finally we broke apart, gasping for air.

Panting, he laid his head an my chest. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for that." he said between gulps of air.

I looked down at him, wrapping my arms around his slightly smaller waist.

"Actually, I think I do."

zZz

I look back on that day and smile.

Especially now, when I'm lying beside him, watching as his chest slowly rises and falls, seeing his fragile frame so close to mine.

Some people think it's wrong for boys to feel this way about each other. Those same people also think it's very wrong for brothers to feel this way. And twins? Well, they probably haven't even fathomed that. But, truthfully, I don't care. And I don't think Fred does either. So we pay no heed to those people, the ones that scowl and give us weird looks as we walk down the street, holding hands and laughing.

He shifts slightly, stretching an arm out, searching for something. Upon finding it he pulls at it until it's draped over his waist; my arm. Sighing contentedly, he snuggles closer into my chest.

I smile, getting pushed into another memory, one of mum.

We had decided to tell our family, about a week after we had figured it out ourselves.

So we did.

They took it quite well actually. Well, mum and dad did anyway. Everyone else sat at the table, jaws on the ground, staring at us holding hands like we were some freak show. Eventually though, they got used to it. Ginny and Ron were the first, Ginny actually smiled when she caught us holding hands. Then Charlie, Bill, and finally, at the end of the understanding train, was Percy. It took him at least a month to stop wincing when he saw me gently kiss Fred on the forehead, but eventually, he got used to it.

And I eventually told Fred about what I had thought of doing right before he had knocked on my door that day. He, of course, totally freaked out, screaming at me until his voice went hoarse and his throat raw. Then he kissed me.

Ahhh. Good memories.

Which brought me around to another. I giggled under my breath, blushing and embarrassed to this day.

About 5 days after our announcement to the fam, Fred and I had walked into our room and found some...well, a...a, uh...a box of...condems; and a note.

_Fred and George,_

_Please use these, I don't want anything to happen. And certainly don't want unprotected sex under my roof! Ever._

_XOXO -Mum-_

We had laughed our heads off for a straight hour. Good old mum, always worrying about us.

And if she had been worried about us, you could only imagine how worried she was when Ron came out and told everyone about his boyfriend; Draco Malfoy.

I can still remember his face, red as a cherry, telling the whole household he was gay and in love, speaking so loud and uptight that the neighbors (about a mile away) could probably hear him. He was clutching the poor boys hand like a toddler gripping his most prized teddy bear.

Yes, very good memories indeed.

My mirror image shifted in the bed beside me, whispering incoherent words under his breath. I pulled the covers up to his bare shoulders, snuggled closer, and settled in for the night, sleeping beside my brother.

My twin.

zZz

**Fishi:** Squee!! Yay!! I hope you liked it!!! And pasty, this is all yours!!! I luv ya!!! Thanx for reading this fic, and if you review, I would give you virtual twin high fives!! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!!

It was brought to my attention that the first chapter had some sort of weird malfunction in it that made strange little symbols pop up everywhere that any grammatical signs were used. I am very sorry for this, and I have no idea how it happened or how to fix it. Maybe I'll try to repost it┘neway, my apologies, hopefully this chapter will be completely legible for all of you, and if it isn't, my apologies yet again!! ;;

[1- 2.4 children is the average amount of children in each family in Canada. I know, how the heck could you get .4 of a child? Beats me, but this is government stuff, so it's not supposed to make sense.

this is pasty here, thanks u soooooo mucho!!! MUCHO GRANDE!! i lurb ewe Fishi!! thanks, u ma favourite!! ;0 i love the story, and i think that it's one of the best that u've ever written! -pasty-


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